


a matter of time

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: (chapter two (probably)), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Blind Date, F/F, F/M, Fluff, I Don't Even Know, M/M, lafayikes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 14:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8251661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "So it's like a big ball of wibbily wobbly timey wimey...stuff?""Alexander, please stop quoting Doctor Who, this is serious,""Sorry, Professor,"or in which the election is parodied, doctor who is misquoted, fake dates are attended and john gets lost in time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Eleutheromania (n)  
> The intense desire for freedom.

It was a common belief that John Laurens was a shy, troubled, kid.

That was a complete fiction. While he had never been the most socially competent for sure, and he didn’t exactly actively seek out social interaction, he would argue with anyone if given the chance. Or even if he wasn’t. As for troubled, most of that came from being at the center of a political scandal for much of his childhood.

His mother Eleanor, rest her soul, was sexually assaulted by Henry Laurens, Junior Senator in the state of South Carolina at the time. And, due to the state’s heavily restrictive laws, as well as a lack of money, she was forced to carry the child to term. That’s the point where most people would’ve given up, but Eleanor kept the child and gave him the best life she could. She took on a third job so her son could go to a nicer school. She spent money she didn’t have on a house she didn’t need so John could have the picture perfect childhood she’d dreamed of.

Then, the unimaginable happened. In 2000, when her son was eight, Eleanor Ball was diagnosed with brain cancer, and John was sent to live with his garbage dump of a father, Henry Laurens. He convinced the nanny his dad had hired him to take him to see his mother every day before she died. He watched her mental state slowly deteriorate until she forgot or own son's name. He held her hand as he died.

As if that wasn’t enough, this also coincided with Henry’s run for the United States Senate. He’d tried to hide John away, treating him like nothing more than a minor inconvenience, or a political asset to win the minority vote. When John, reasonably, didn’t comply with his ridiculous demands, he wasn’t afraid to use his fists to put him in place. So John didn’t fight back when his dad sent him away to a boarding school in Connecticut. Sure he had made one friend, his roommate, Lafayette, a French kid who’s dad was also in politics, and he really engaged himself with his studies, but any good experience was forgotten once he spent the summer in DC again.

That brings us to today. John was at a coffee shop near his dad’s house, attempting to study for his AP Physics class next year. He hadn’t been there before, but he’d been avoiding home a lot more recently. Being distracted was pretty uncommon for him, something he prided himself on. But a stranger tapping your shoulder and yelling your name was bound to get your attention. Said stranger was wearing a baggy green sweatshirt, had greasy black hair in a loose ponytail, and a little bit of stubble that didn’t say intentional, rather I haven’t slept in 4 days. Yet John found him a little cute in that sense.

“Laurens! I’ve looked everywhere for you-” the Stranger began, trying to catch up with his breath. John is a little taken aback by the fact that the stranger is referring to him by his name. Does he know this guy? Maybe he was from his school. “Hey did you get a haircut?” Stranger asked.

John ran his hand through his close-cropped curls, he’d had the same style for nearly his whole life. It’s probably just a mistake, right? Maybe he’d been recognized from the coverage for the scandal which took place nearly ten years ago. He scoured his mind for any recollection of the face in front of him. “Who are you?” John asked, reaching for his phone and wondering if now was a good time to call the police.

“So you don’t recognize me?” John shook his head. “I’m Alex. Please don’t call the cops on me.” He responded while taking John’s phone out of his hand.

“Well that narrows it down,” John responded sarcastically. “Look, it’s really important that I do this work.” That was a lie. He had all summer.

Alex took the pencil right out of John’s hand, “I promise that this is at least a hundred times more important than any schoolwork.” He pulled out the chair to sit next to John. “Do you really not know me, keep in mind, your answer will, in fact change the course of human history.” His large black eyes seemed to get even larger and blacker.

“Way to be melodramatic,” John replied, “No, I don’t know you, why?”

“John, what do you know about time travel?” Alex asked. John would have asked if this was some crazy prank, pulled by Martha or James, but Alex is deadly serious.

“Not much, I mean I love Doctor Who, but I doubt that counts,” John replied, “You’re not a time traveler- are you?” When Alex doesn’t reply for a second John is in total shock “Oh my god, you’re a time traveler.”

“Shhhhh!” Alex motioned.

“You’re a time traveler!” he repeated, slightly softer this time. Or it was some really sick joke.

“Technically we’re all time travelers,” Alex began, taking a sip of John’s coffee. “Moving at a rate of one second for second. We enter a new timeline with every choice we make. We’re only ripples in a cosmic stream of energy.”

“That’s not what I mean.” John rolled his eyes. In any other circumstance, he’d be 300% done with Alex and his pretentious bull but something about him just seemed to make John hate him a little less. “You traveled back in time, correct?”

“That is correct,” Alex confirmed, “and no- I can’t tell you how it’s possible it’d tear a hole in the space-time continuum or something. Look, I’ve only got a few minutes left, and I need to give you this.” He fished out a crumpled piece of notebook paper with oddly familiar handwriting.

“That’s my handwriting,” John protested, because who else wrote “g’s” like a typewriter and over crossed his “t’s”.

“Indeed it is,” Alex agreed, “This was written by John Laurens on February 8th, 2017.” John stared at the paper in disbelief. Surely, this was a joke, he couldn’t be getting a letter from ten years in the future- he doubted that people would even write by hand by then. “You can read it later,” Alex commented, noticing how John had his eyes glued to the thing.

“Why do you have this?” John retracted a little, “Am I dead in the future?” He only asked that because it sounded just cliche enough for it to be true. “Or, your present,” he corrected himself, avoiding another poetic ramble.

“Kind of,” Alex responded, “Professor Washington- you’ll hear about him in the letter- made this time machine, right? And you volunteered to test it, we set the coordinates for this coffee shop, at roughly. Then, you’d follow some directions and make it back to the lab, so you could go back to 2015.”

“So what’s the problem?” John asked.

“In my timeline, it’s 2017, and you’re not back.” John wanted more context, but before he could ask, Alex was occupied by a beeping noise from his watch and frantically dashed towards the supposed “labs”.

So John read the letter.

Dear Past John,

Hi. I just wanted to start off by saying a few things. First, yes this is you. Second, yes this is you from 2015, and Third, no Ben from History does not like you back. I know you will spend time agonizing over that, just do your studies. I wrote this letter in case I don’t make it because then I need past me to find out what was wrong with the experiment and fix it.

So first, you need to get into MIT. I know it sounds really hard, but debate team, tennis, and robotics does wonders to an application. Seriously. If you don’t, you will never time travel.

Second, you need to stay friends with Laf, because one day one of those stupid blind dates he takes you on will result in an engagement (and hopefully a wedding if all goes well with this). If you don’t, you will never meet the light of your life, the best person ever (he’s the one with the poetic stuff). I’d tell you his name, but I’m pretty sure that’d mess up the space-time continuum even more than it already had.

Third, you need to come out to dad right now. He’ll kick you out sooner or later, but this way, you can contact the press and ruin his chances at reelection. That’s more of a personal thing, but now he’s running for president and it’s scary. I don’t give a shit about spacetime for this one.

Best of luck,  
You.

**Author's Note:**

> if you really want more i'll write it for you but it wont be anytime soon. also i'm looking for a beta if your into that stuff


End file.
